All These Lives
by redandyellowmarshandmellow
Summary: *Spoilers for S6* Continued from where season 6 finished. Castiel is the new self proclaimed 'God', but how long can he hold onto that power? As Sam and Dean try to find a way to bring him down, the souls are vying for escape. Some tame Dean/Cas coming up
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer. Don't own a damn thing.

Chapter 1 - Let There be Light.

"So you will bow down, and profess your love unto me your lord, or I shall destroy you."

The four of them stood in silence that way for a while. Team free will. Then suddenly the silence was broken with a cry from Sam as he dropped to his knees. He clutched at his head, the sliver of strength, that had held him up long enough to stab the angel blade through Castiel's back, dissolving. Dean was at his side instantly, Bobby running over too.

"Sam? Sammy?" Dean yelled as his brother collapsed in on himself, eyes rolling back into his head, his mouth opening in a silent scream.

Cas strode over, purposefully like always, but now still with an eerie darkness to his step. Bobby froze in his tracks, looking from Castiel to Dean, and back.

Dean raised his head, Sam was shaking now, uncontrollably and making dreadful gagging noises from deep in his chest. Dean instinctively pulled his brother into his arms, shielding him away from Castiel as he looked up at their new 'God'.

"I told you that when all this was over I would save Sam. Have you not yet learned that above all else I know what I am doing Dean Winchester?"

The question hung in the stale air for what seemed like an eternity; Dean almost opened his mouth to answer, but he didn't have a witty retort stashed anywhere. He wasn't sure he trusted himself to speak, not with his brother spasming in his arms as he did, and not with Castiel, as close as a brother, overcome with power and pushed to the brink of insanity towering above him.

Even though every fibre in his body told him to get the fuck away from Cas. Get Sam the fuck away from him, he just sat and watched stupidly as Castiel poised his hand over Sam's convulsing body. _What choice do I have anyway? _

Sam's body stopped jerking and raised itself up to Castiel's outstretched hand. His brother's eyes were closed now and unseeing, but his limbs pushed against the floor, against Dean at unnatural angles raising his torso in an unhealthy arch up to Castiel's palm.

"Cas…?" Dean heard himself utter. His voice cracked just as a white light flooded the room.

The last thing he swore he saw, before the white flash forced him to shut his eyes, was Castiel, stumbling backwards and clutching his chest.

* * *

><p>Dean opened his eyes, back in Bobby's house. He was sprawled across the sofa, head feeling like it was stuffed full of cotton wool. He forced himself up, eyes darting around the room and finding Bobby and Sam, both sitting up and looking dazed.<p>

"Sammy!" Dean all but screamed, rushing from the couch and sliding across the tarnished wood floor on his knees, hands gripped his brother's shoulders. "Sammy? You okay?" He pressed, even though it was clear that Sam was Sam again.

"Yeah…" Sam replied shakily, "Yeah, Dean, I'm fine."

Bobby rushed over, helping the two boys to their feet.

They all stood silent for a moment, Dean dragging a hand down his tired face, before Bobby muttered,

"Time to break out the whiskey."

* * *

><p>Castiel returned to heaven. Immediately the angels lined up. It had been stupid to try and teach free will, and he might as well use the resources at his hand. Also, he found that free will was unpredictable. Wasn't Raphael's plot of his own will? Yes, best to treat the angels as the soldiers that they were.<p>

He began to speak, giving orders and direction to his army and tried not to think about the searing hot pain he'd experienced before. The pain of something trying to escape from under his ribs, scratching and clawing inside him.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer - Don't own a damn thing!

Chapter 2 - Behind Blue Eyes.

A week passed and not much changed. The brothers fell back into routine, saving people, hunting things; But Cas was the elephant in the room. They were desperately trying to come up with a plan to combat his new position, preferably one that wouldn't kill him. But either way they had squat. It wasn't until the muggy thursday night following the ritual that Dean admitted what everyone had been thinking.

"We've gotta call him." Dean said flatly. This earned him and incredulous look from Sam.

"You've got to be kidding Dean? No. We have no idea where his head is at now. Last time we saw him he was killing with a snap of his fingers."

Bobby nodded his head looking towards Dean who was spinning the fat metal ring on his third finger. A tell tale sign that he was nervous.

"He won't hurt us." Dean muttered, almost trying to convince himself, "It's still Cas guys, he's just a little… high right now. But with those souls…"

"We don't stand a chance." Sam finished.

Dean shook his head. He looked up at Sam from under his lashes, knowing he was thinking the same. Castiel was too powerful for them to even think about killing. Their best bet, their only chance, was to talk him down. Now they just had to find the right words.

"Well, I hope you boys know what you're doing," Bobby muttered. "I'll get the ritual started."

* * *

><p>Bobby finished the last words of latin, dropping a match into the pigment and igniting a bright blue flame that slowly died down to merely sparks. Dean felt sick. Completely naked and vulnerable, with no weapons on him and no angel proofing around the house, because... Well, what the hell would be the point?<p>

The three of them sat, eyes tensely moving around the room for some sign of Castiel's presence, for almost an hour; There was no telling whether this would work, whether Cas was even bound by the magic they used to summon him, all they could do was wait.

They heard his voice before they saw him standing in the corner of the room.

"Why did you call me?"

Dean looked up, taken aback by Castiel's appearance. He looked like hell. Dark shadows lay under his eyes, but also on his temples, his neck and the backs of his hands. When Castiel stepped into the light of the room Dean realised that they were ugly purple bruises. These marks littered Castiel's vessel, some as dark as night, others yellowing. It occurred to Dean that while nothing on the outside could touch him, it was what was inside of him that was causing this damage.

"What the hell happened to you?" Sam gasped, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over them. Dean snapped out of his thoughts, tearing his eyes away from Castiel's scarred body.

Castiel sighed. It was devoid of feeling, but in the way that emotion required him too much effort. More than anything, their former friend, former angel, looked and sounded broken.

"It's not important. my vessel is weakening; Jimmy is not strong enough to withstand my power anymore."

"Like Lucifer's vessel…" Sam whispered, almost to himself, but not quietly enough. Castiel whirled on him, face exploding with a flash of hot anger. As uncharacteristic as this was of Cas, Dean favoured it over that insensitive smugness.

"Don't compare me to him." he snapped, his voice low, rumbling and as rough as gravel. Sam held up his hands, took a step back, realising how dangerous it would be to aggravate Castiel. Bobby watched the exchange in silence.

'_Don't poke the bear' _Dean thought, _'Unless, that's exactly what I have to do.'_

"Well, not for nothing Cas, but he's right. You look like shit."

Castiel turned to him now, that foreign smirk settled on his face. Dean kept up his bravado, not looking at Sam and Bobby; their eyes beseeching him to _shut the fuck up_.

He prayed, (Well, maybe not prayed…) that Castiel wouldn't see through him completely. He started to pace.

"I mean, come on Cas. How long are you gonna defend this. Yeah, you managed to overthrow Raphael, Kudos. But seriously. Your vessel is fucked two ways from Sunday, and God only knows where your head is at."

It felt good. He'd spent so much time in the past couple of years talking things out or just pushing down his emotions. Dean knew that he dealt well with his feelings by hashing them out with anger and sarcasm. Even though the timing now wasn't perfect, (far from it), he couldn't seem to stop himself. Something had snapped, and suddenly he didn't want to persuade Cas. He didn't have the damn strength for a _heart to heart. _He wanted to lay everything out, wanted to say exactly what was on his mind; Everyone else be damned. I mean, if they were going down… well they might as well go down literally swinging.

"And I get it you know; I mean, hey, everyone wants to feel invincible. But for fucks sake, you've just got no idea just how deluded you are."

Castiel tilted his head.

"Just because you can do what you want. Doesn't mean you get to do whatever you want!" He yelled. His knees were defiantly shaking but he stood tall, now only a few feet from Cas. Sam and Bobby hovered by the table. He knew when they'd made the decision to call Cas he'd be the one to do the talking, although he hadn't at that point thought he'd be yelling at the most powerful and dangerous thing he'd ever faced.

Castiel's mouth set in a hard line, he took two long strides towards the eldest Winchester, coat billowing behind him, until their noses almost touched. Dean swallowed thickly, waiting for the imminent death that he'd never thought would have come at the hand of Castiel.

Castiel had opened his mouth to say respond, before something changed in his eyes. Suddenly he looked vulnerable, hurt, _scared_. He stumbled back a step clutching his side; a groan like he'd been punched escaped his lips. Dean looked down and saw blood pouring through the white cotton of his shirt. With it, Dean could have sworn he saw the shimmer of something dart out. Along the walls, up the chimney. Like the ripple in high heat. There, but also not. Castiel pitched forward, into Dean who caught his arms and braced his back. Sam and Bobby started towards them, but Dean held up a hand.

The moment passed as quickly as it had come, Castiel straightened, stepped away from Dean who was still unconsciously gripping his arm tight. Something a little like hatred was in his eyes.

"Get your hands off me." he spat. His eyes closed and the room began to shake. Pure white flooded from his chest, expelling out like a brilliant starburst. Dean had just enough time to shout 'shut your eyes' before the high pitched wail of the light became too loud to think.

He threw himself to the floor and remained there until the screeching subsided and the ground ceased it's quaking movement.

* * *

><p>He opened his eyes to darkness, the lights overhead were blown out; Grabbing his zippo lighter from his back pocket he flicked it on and saw Bobby and Sam were recovering from where they had pressed themselves against the floor.<p>

Castiel was gone, a shallow puddle of blackish red blood stained the floor where he had stood.

* * *

><p><span>NOTE<span>

So I hope you're enjoying so far. At the minuet it's pretty Canon but I'm debating whether to make this into a Destiel fic, so if that is/isn't (Gettit? Slash? No? :|) your thing then let me know!  
>Always love to hear what you guys think. REVIEW FOR FREE COOKIES.<p>

(But not really.)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer - Don't own a damn thing.

Chapter 3 - Fallen Angel

_'What am I doing?'_

It had been two months. Two long months and this was the first time Castiel had questioned himself. Really sat down, and doubted. The horrible thing was that it was a familiar feeling. He'd forgotten it, been so sure in his actions, actions that he now saw may have been… _wrong? Deluded?_

But when he came back around to doubt, it was like a unfriendly, yet familiar face. More the 'I told you so' kind of feeling coming from a smug and secure consciousness stashed away somewhere. Maybe this was what he was made for, not to follow orders, but not to lead. Just to doubt and disobey.

He was weak and he hated himself for it. He buckled over again as a stabbing pain shot through his collar bone, a spurt of blood, a shimmer of light darted out before Castiel clasped a hand over his shoulder. A thought of Dean, his hand clutching Cas' arm not wanted to let go until Cas pushed him away. He swallowed, steeling himself against the power bashing the underside of his ribcage. When he felt like the fight inside him had subsided momentarily, he let out a breath.

It was funny how that even as he wasn't human, (anything but,) he longed and grasped for that sliver of humanity.

Initally he had been so blinded by his _friend's _individual betrayals, he had shut himself off, turned off emotion because it was that easy to feel nothing. And it was better.

But now… Now he was trying to claw those feelings back, because he realised that was who he was.

It was easy to feel nothing. To not care.

But emotion, raw and human, that was the hard part. And it was so hard to feel it when everything inside you was screaming the opposite. He feared so much that that part of him had died with Raphael.

Castiel looked down at his hands, Jimmy's hands, now raw and bloodied, black and blue. He thought about how something so dark could cause so much damage in one instance, but do good in another.

Months before he'd used parts of the souls from purgatory to repair Sam's, and as far as he could tell it had worked. Sam's soul in it's barest form had been intact, Castiel just replaced a few of the more broken parts. Sure Sam would still have night terrors. Sure he'd still feel damaged, but he wouldn't be catatonic.

Castiel remembered when he'd heard the news of his Father, on Earth, but not giving a fuck about the apocalypse. How he'd gone out, _on a bender. _Even then he hadn't felt great in his drunken state, but it felt a damn sight better than the next morning. He realised now how similar this was; His friends had turned their backs on him, so he'd gone out and lost himself in a drug, which had felt damn good. Powerful and temporarily invincible. He'd fixed Sam, ended Raphael, disposed of Raphael's followers and ordered heaven.

But now. Now he was experiencing the after effects. His body was broken, his grace tarnished, and looking back on his actions that at the time had seemed righteous and good, he realised just how deluded he had been. Just how much damage he had been causing even then.

More and more he'd sit alone like this, thinking about the path he'd found himself on. But more than anything, more than he cared to, he thought about Dean.

Dean who he'd done this for. Who taught him to doubt, to question, to rebel and do _the right thing. _If he knew what it was he'd do it, without blinking, he'd do it.

_'But I guess that's the beauty of rebelling. Of doing the right thing. You don't for certain that in the long term it is right and you have no one to tell you it is. It's a blind leap of faith. More often than not, based on solely on instinct.'_

He knew what his instincts were telling him now. In that moment, looking at his hands, feeling the darkness rising again inside him and thinking about Dean, Castiel knew. Just knew this had to stop.

He knew he needed help. Just hoped someone would be there to help him.

* * *

><p>NOTE - Hope you like, I'm not terribly good at the whole, Godstiel inner monologue, but it kicks next chapter, so stick with me. Review and you're awesome. Castiel approves. :)<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer - Don't own a thing.

Chapter 4 - And We All Fall Down 

Dean slept, albeit lightly. For the first time in months he had been settled in unbroken sleep for nearly two hours. It was a new personal record. He awoke to what he thought was the faint sound of rustling feathers, glanced around the empty room, his heart in his mouth. Just as it was every time he woke up in the middle of the night thinking he'd heard Castiel.

_Fooling himself into thinking just for a moment that the last two months hadn't happened. _

He'd dragged himself off of the sofa and glanced at the digital clock beeping where his head had been. 00:24 blinked back at him. He slouched off to the kitchen for a glass of water, (or a slug of whisky might be more effective), trying not to wake Sam, for whom it was even more rare to get some measure of seemingly peaceful sleep.

Dean had opted for water, the whisky may help him to pass out quicker, but it would do his mind no favours. Everything seemed muted drunk and conscious, but his dreams were a lot more vivid through alcohol induced sleep. He knew from experience. He took a sip, and lowered the glass to the counter. Just as he set it down there was a thick thudding, of dead weight hitting the hardwood floor, and for a second he looked stupidly at his own hand holding the glass, wondering if that had been him.

He whirled around, greeted with the sight of Castiel, huddled on the hardwood just outside of the doorway, groaning. Sam had jolted awake and looked to Dean for some indication of what the hell they were meant to do.

"Go get Bobby." Dean yelled, crouching over Cas who was desperately heaving himself to his feet using the wall as a crutch.

"Dean…" Sam replied hesitantly, obviously not loving the idea of leaving Dean alone with Cas.

"Sam. Go." Dean said flatly, resolve thick in his voice. And Sam did. Dean turned back to Cas, hands grasping the lapels of his trenchcoat to drag him to his feet. _Shit, he felt thin through that coat. _"Cas look at me, Cas. Are you okay?"

Castiel looked up, and for a moment he smiled, _actually smiled. _Dean hadn't abandoned him, sure it had felt like it, but if there was one thing Cas had learnt in his time among humans was that forgiveness was a beautiful thing. Sam had raised Lucifer. Bobby had sold his soul to Crowley. Dean had forgiven them, they were family again. Cas had still had doubts, even in his impulse flight down here, but now he knew he could do this. He had to do this… _for Dean._

"I'm sorry," he choked, a shimmer darted from his shoulder, and he winced for a second, but set his jaw and stood stronger now than Dean had seen him before. The rippling air bashed against the wall, singeing the wallpaper there, and sped through the half open window. Dean's eyes widened in horror as he realised these shimmers in the air were the souls escaping through Cas. Punching holes in him in a bid for freedom. Castiel read his mind, his eyes turned soft and comforting for a moment, "I've got them Dean. Now I can put them back."

Bobby and Sam's footsteps sounded down the stairs, hammering into the room. Cas' gaze fell on Bobby,

"I need your help," he started, and when the two hunters just looked at him in disbelief Dean stepped towards them.

"We've gotta crack Purgatory again," he announced, "Cas is uh… Cas is putting them back." Dean tried to keep the smile out of his voice, but this was the best he could have hoped for. It was hard to keep from grinning. In fact, he wondered why they weren't all happier about the situation. Maybe Castiel's battered form was still casting a dark shadow over everything.

Castiel handed a jar of blood to Bobby, a grimace on his face as he continued to battle the war raging inside him,

"Hurry." Dean said shortly, who knew how much longer Cas could restrain the souls. The wind blew strong, wailing through the loose window panes as Bobby rushed to the desk; retrieving a piece of paper covered in words he'd hashed out after hearing the ritual and a sketch of the sigil drawn from memory. '_Maybe the months of obsessing over the ritual had been worth it after all_,' Dean wondered idly.

Sam frowned.

"Wait, didn't you need the blood of a Purgatory native last time?"

Castiel nodded, he grabbed a knife from the assortment on the table behind him, always stacked with books and weapons, pulled up his sleeve and dragged it across the underside of his arm. Of course, the souls had been in himso long now, they'd consumed him almost. Dean couldn't help but shudder, the bruises on Castiel's body had worsened if possible over the past months, now he could see they trailed up his arm, blotchy but clear like paint splatters. Blueish black veins were prominent, Christ, his arm looked like a frigging roadmap. Bobby returned just in time, catching the blood in a pewter bowl, mixing it with the virgins blood.

Bobby stormed over to the largest barest expanse of wall, tearing away a picture frame that hung there and quickly copied the sigil onto the wall paper using the reddish black mixture, Sam helped and picked up the ritual, began to chant. _This is going too well, _was all Dean could think. He could see the urgency in Castiel's eyes, could see how much it was killing him to hold the souls in until the timing was right. But there was something more than that, he could see something like… fear? Regret?

Castiel's legs gave way and a sickening crunch sounded as a soul ripped straight out of his chest. He clutched his arms around himself, staggering up, back to his feet. Dean was at his side instantly, watching as not one, but five or six of the shimmering forms ripped through the house, stronger in numbers, tearing out a window and letting the gail blow into the front room. A light was forming in the middle of the sigil as Bobby stepped back. Sam continued to chant, also taking steps back, pressing himself against the far wall. The light grew slowly until it was around the size of an average door, it's brightness framing Castiel and Dean as they stood silhouetted in it's path.

Dean felt a soft grip on his bare arm, feather light and he turned towards Cas. In that moment the realisation hit him like a ton of flying bricks. _Cas wasn't going to live through this one, and the son of a bitch had known that all along._

No wonder he hadn't been happy about this; Dean had put it down to the pain the souls were causing him. But now he thought about it, he remembered with renewed understanding, the shock and almost pity looks Sam and Bobby had shot their way while performing the ritual. _Of course it was going too well. Of course this had been too motherfucking easy. _He felt like the biggest idiot for not realising, but of course, there was no way he'd have gotten his Cas back, not permanently; It didn't work that way.

"I'm sorry Dean." Castiel muttered, all too quickly, and before Dean had time to register he'd darted forward, pitching into the portal of swirling blue light. Dean just watched, stunned with tears stinging his eyes as Castiel looked back at him, finally letting go of the souls which burst out of him, tore him apart from the inside. The clothes on his back came away in shreds, as did the skin and flesh and bone, from his fingers, his shoulders, his face. After what seemed like an eternity of watching this, but must have only been a few seconds, the masses of soulsclouded the vision of Castiel with their shimmering aura and the portal snapped shut on them all.

* * *

><p>It was only when the portal shut and they were plunged into darkness that Dean realised that at some point all the lights had blown out. He was glad it was dark, glad that neither Bobby or Sam could see his face, slick with tears and grief. He stumbled to the sofa and sank into it wordlessly.<p>

* * *

><p>No one said anything for a long time, Sam silently fetched candles placing a few around the room, and Bobby after checking that Dean and Sam were okay, a couple of questions that mostly went unanswered by Dean, disappeared upstairs.<p>

Dean glanced at the clock. It was 00.43. It had been twenty minutes. Twenty minutes was all it had taken, for his entire situation, entire perspective to be turned upside down and smashed to pieces again.

Sam stood before him, obviously stuck for words, and trying to think of the best thing to say.

"Dean, I'm sorr…"

"Don't." Dean stammered, surprised a little to hear the waver in his voice. "Just don't Sammy. I can't do this now."

Sam nodded, just to hear his brother speak was a relief. He patted Dean on the shoulder, squeezed and walked back to his side of the room. Gathering his sleeping things, he silently moved into the hall. The least he could do was give Dean some privacy. Give him some time alone to register what had happened. Sam knew his brother well enough not to go upstairs though. Privacy was one thing, but his brother completely alone in his grief, that way lay stupid decisions and demon deals. No, the hall was fine.

* * *

><p>Dean lay back, mind whirling in circles for almost an hour. The silence in the house was deafening, and all Dean could think was that he just wanted to fucking scream now. Go outside, kill something and fucking scream the whole goddamn town down. Another hour passed in stifled quiet as the candles wavering light died down and Dean decided that that was just what he'd do. He couldn't stay here.<p>

He pulled on a pair of jeans, making his way through the darkness and to the door when he heard a stirring. And not one coming from the hall way or upstairs. He turned, pulling his gun and easing off the safety. Careful to make no more noise as he crept back into the dark front room.

* * *

><p>NOTE - SO I WROTE THIS VERY EARLY THIS MORNING. We're talking around 2.30. So I apologise for any mistakes, I did have a quick proof read this morning but it's hot outside and I think the sun is frying my brain. Anyway hope you enjoy. Just one more chapter to go, but I think this whole thing might lead into my own AU. SO AWESOME TIMES.<br>Anyway, hope you enjoy. Review to be the Castiel to my Crowley.  
>(Because I ship them now. =u=)<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer - Don't own a damn thing!

Chapter 5 - Complications

The dark of the room suddenly felt heavy and oppressive. Dean's eyes flicked to where the portal had been. The blood still stained the wall, drying and flaking away now. The floor there was empty; the tiny flicker of hope in Dean, that he hadn't even known had been there, died.

Another scuffling sound, from the far side of the room behind the table where it was pitch black, the candles now nothing more than pools of wax.

_Rats maybe? _He thought, then immediately dismissed the idea. How often in his life did the things that went bump in the night turn out to be rats.

He took another slow step forwards, a small groan sounded from the corner of the room. _Definitely not rats then._ He kept his gun raised and pointed at the dark spot, even though the groan sounded familiar and non threatening. A form slowly rose from the floor there, blackness building up into a podium that staggered, but straightened suddenly looking man shaped.

_Cas._

* * *

><p>Dean swallowed, and even though it went against everything he wanted to do now he kept his gun up.<p>

Castiel clutched the chair to his right, his back was to Dean and he clearly didn't know that he was being watched; which was strange in itself for Castiel. He'd always been completely aware, even when his vessel's back had been turned.

Cas gave a cough, shoulders shaking pretty violently from it and a hand came up to his mouth. The scales in Dean's head tipped, and before he knew it his instincts had won out; He lowered his gun.

"Cas…?" he questioned shakily and the figure stopped. The tension was running high in the room. Extremely so, to the point where Dean could have sworn he heard a buzzing like electricity. He didn't quite know how Sam and Bobby were still asleep, but they obviously were.

Castiel started to turn around, but the force of the cough must have made him light headed, his knees giving out for a moment and he crashed into the arm of the sofa. While he regained himself, still grasping the chair Dean rushed forwards, his arm gripping Castiel's shoulder as he turned him around to face him.

It was Castiel alright. His face looked healthier than it had the last time. Still pale, his hair messy and standing up on odd ends. But no bruises on his cheeks, no black veins threading poisons through his body.

Before Cas had anytime to reply Dean pulled him into a rough hug. His arms fastened tightly around Cas', his own body holding up the… '_angel? God? Man?'_. He still felt thin though. Still felt damaged and vulnerable and… _human._

A thousand questions bulleted through his mind but they all halted when he felt Castiel's hand on his back, holding him too.

A long while passed in the dark, Dean's palm rubbing circles through Cas' trenchcoat as Cas buried his face deep in Dean's neck. Every now and then his shoulder's would shudder, and he'd murmur something like,

"Dean, I'm sorry…"

Dean hugged him tighter, feeling sick to his stomach every time Cas apologised. Yeah, he'd fucked up, but Dean had fucked up first. If he'd had been there, maybe listened? Not been so stubborn but understanding? The real kicker was he _knew_ it hadn't had to be this way, and God knew how much damage had been done to Cas, _his Cas, _now.

Dean pulled back out of the embrace, hands trailing up to rest on Castiel's shoulders, he leant back slightly so their faces were at least a foot apart. Castiel's damp eyes searched his, even now Dean could read more hurt in them. Cas was wondering what he'd done wrong this time. Without a seconds further thought he followed his instincts the second time that night, leaning back in and closing the distance he'd just put between them.

His lips brushed Cas' mouth softly at first, planting kisses at the corner, in the centre, slowly opening Cas' lips with his own. He kept his eyes open, staring at Cas for some sign that he didn't want this, right up until Castiel's eyelids fluttered closed, his arms went from being limp at his sides to pressing at the small of Dean's back, hands pulling at his hips and bringing them closer.

It was Castiel that deepened the kiss, tongue invading Dean's mouth, trailing along his teeth, sucking lightly on Dean's lower lip.

_Shit, he was good at this. _

His nerve endings were on fire. With every flick of Castiel's tongue, every scratch of Cas' stubbled cheek against his own. Dean felt a heat pool in his stomach, moving down to his groin.

_Fuck._

His hips were pressed right up against Castiel's, and Cas was showing no signs of slowing the kiss. Showing no signs of slowing at all. Dean's hips bucked a little, and he had to stop this. He couldn't do this now. He couldn't…

He broke away.

Castiel's lips were puffy and reddening along with the flush across his cheeks. His eyes searching Dean's wide and such a bright blue they seemed unreal. Dean panted a little, only now realising how much his heart was racing, he subconsciously was still leaning forwards, their foreheads rested against each other. Castiel's hands were still around Dean's back.

Dean coughed, rubbing the back of his neck and stepping back awkwardly.

"We should, ah, get some sleep. I mean, I'm not… Neither of us are thinking straight but I…"

He looked at Castiel again who hadn't moved.

"…I'm glad you're back Cas, but... how exactly are you back?"

Castiel looked down, Dean could've sworn he saw him shrug.

"How I feel Dean, is all too familiar. I don't know how exactly I am still alive, but I do know my grace is gone… I'm human again and this time…" He sighed. "This time, I think... it's permanent."

"You don't know that Cas." was all Dean could say.

_Human. _Dean's mind immediately went to 2014 Cas, human and more lost than ever. Addicted to just about every substance that could get him high enough to just pass the fucking day.

Cas had sunk into the sofa, his head drooping he slipped out of his trenchcoat and bunched it up into a pillow for under his head. Dean just watched. It was so bizarre, it didn't look like Cas now, to suddenly be acting this… human. Dean sunk into the sofa next to him, after a few minutes he was sure Cas had drifted off to sleep.

He didn't sleep. How could he? After how Cas was now?

After what had just happened. _What the fuck was that kiss?_

Glancing back over at Castiel's sleeping form he tried not to think about it. Emotions were running high as it was. It was just a fluke. Spur of the moment; wouldn't happen again.

A dread crept through him everytime he remembered the Castiel he'd seen in the future. Was that what he was destined to become? Was that still the future they could be running towards?

Somewhere in those troubling thoughts he managed to drift off to sleep as well, a frown etched into his features.

Things were already getting too complicated.

* * *

><p>NOTE - Okay so this was going to be my summing up chapter but I think there'll be one more to go which should tie up a couple of loose ends and lead me into my own little DeanHuman!Cas verse which I can then freely write drabbles for (If you're into that sort of thing...)

But please Review if you'd like to see more of this, because to be honest this whole fic is almost like and introduction to my own S7 verse. So yeah.

Stay awesome peeps! :D


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer - Don't own a damn thing.

Chapter 6 - Nothing ever really ends

Dean woke up slowly the next morning, groggy and with a crick in his neck from sleeping on the sofa at an odd angle. He looked over to where Cas had settled the night before, bringing last night's events flooding back, not least of all the kiss. Dean drags a hand slowly down his face. Although he's worried about a hundred and one things right now though, it can't taint the feeling of Cas being back. The feeling that even while Castiel may not be one hundred percent okay, he's in one piece at least. _Who was a hundred percent these days?_ Thinking of this he realises he's alone on the sofa now, Cas' rumpled trench coat all that keeps him company, having unravelled in slumber and now draped half across his knees.

Muffled voices echo from the kitchen and Dean heads toward them.

* * *

><p>"But we saw you get torn apart Cas… I mean don't get me wrong. I'm glad you're okay, we all are but… we watched you die in purgatory."<p>

There's a brief silence as Dean joins them, nodding a greeting to Sam and Bobby, letting them know that '_Yes, he was aware Cas had returned_.'

He didn't look at Cas, though he could feel the former angel's eyes on him, instead busying himself serving up a plate of bacon that was sizzling on the old stove.

Castiel stared at him a few moments more, then broke the silence;

"I don't know. My theory, although it is exactly that, is that when I stepped into purgatory I entered another plane. Another dimension. It is common that in some dimensions I can only exist in my true form, or even only as a representation by my grace."

"But we saw you get torn up. I mean _your vessel_, you." Bobby cut in, gesturing at Castiel.

"I have a theory about that too. My true form, or my grace when witnessed in other dimension's can become subjective. In a alternate plane I am more able to mould my form into a comprehendible image. Sometimes it's even unintentional."

Dean took a seat in the window, looking at Cas for the first time and chewing on a mouthful of salty bacon.

"So kinda like a dreamscape, your image is based on how you see yourself at the time. Or how we see you."

"In laymen's terms, yes. I wouldn't have thought I'd appear as Jimmy, I've not inhabited this vessel for long considering, but he is a more accurate representation of myself in the past three years. Not only is he the only way you have seen me, I've changed a lot from what I used to be. This..." He looked down at himself, "... seems only fitting."

There was a pause.

"Well not to bring everyone down again, but there' a new problem." Sam said, dumping his plate in the sink and leaning back against the counter.

"Isn't there always?" Dean sighed.

"He means the souls. Although a lot of them were only released when I stepped through the gate to purgatory, I lost.._. control_ at times up until then. Some of them escaped into the world."

"But they weren't more than shimmers when I saw them…" Dean muttered, partly to himself.

"You saw them?" Sam asked.

"Only just; Like a heat ripple in the air y'know."

"They won't stay that way. The same way the souls of humans can become ghost's, and souls in hell are moulded into demons, the souls from purgatory can manifest on this plane."

Bobby nods his head,

"And if Eve is anything to go by, these things, they're not exactly gonna be our conventional monsters."

Suddenly, Castiel pushed back his chair, the legs scraping along the floor and stalked out, his head drooped and shoulders slumped. Seconds later they heard the door open and quietly shut. It was so different to when he used to just vanish with a chorus of rustling feathers.

* * *

><p>Castiel stared down at his hands, settled in the dirt and dust behind a rusted old Hemi Cuda and a '79 GMC Chevy truck. He hadn't been concerned about explaining himself to the Winchester's after everything. Dealing with the aftermath. He knew it'd had been selfish, but he'd been certain he wouldn't survive letting the souls go, been certain he wouldn't have to live with the guilt of his mistakes, the work his redemption might take. But maybe this was his punishment.<p>

_Maybe his father had this planned for him all along_.

"Hey." Dean's voice sounded above his head.

"Hey," Cas breathed half-heartedly. Almost as if he wanted to elaborate, but there was too much to say, so he just let it hang in the air.

"Cas, man look, I know you're blaming yourself for this whole thing, but I know your intentions were… Well I know you didn't mean for this to happen. And what matters now is we right what went wrong. If anyone knows how you feel now Cas, it's us; I mean me and Sam are the poster boys for shit like this…"

"_You're_ not." Castiel said suddenly, his voice gravel, looking up at Dean. Their eyes locked, Castiel's jaw set in a hard line as he continued, never breaking eye contact. "You were tortured, and forced, pushed into actions which had repercussions you weren't aware of. It's different. I was self-righteous and arrogant. You warned me, over and over, just like with Sam, but I didn't listen because I was sure I was clever enough, strong enough…"

"Cas…"

"No. You deserved to be saved, and I… Well…" He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand though his hair. "Well, now I'm human."

_And wasn't that the truth. _Dean thought, sinking to the ground crouching in front of Cas. He tried to push down that all too familiar feeling of betrayal, but it bit at him. Gnawed at his insides. But he kept up a poker face, just like always.

"Cas, trust me. I know that you know you've made mistakes, but what counts is _I know you_. I know you want to make things right. Want to make this world a better place and all that."

"Dean…"

"No Cas. I mean it. I know this is hard, and it's probably gonna get harder. But as far as I'm concerned we're still family. I want to help you, but you've gotta want to be helped." He tried to keep the annoyed tone out of his voice, he felt bad for Cas, but he was still pissed. And having a moping ex angel wasn't going to do anyone any favours.

Cas looked at him, something in his face softened, his mouth lifted into a faint smile. Dean grinned, patting a hand on Cas' shoulder, squeezing his arm through the thin cotton of his white shirt.

"You're a Winchester now, and we're not known for sitting feeling sorry for ourselves. Better to go pull it out of some evil thing's ass instead."

Castiel gave a slight nod, picking himself up and starting to wander inside. His body was lean and he looked taller somehow without the trenchcoat and suit jacket cloaking him.

"Are you coming?" He asked, turning to Dean who was still crouched in the dirt.

"Yeah, I guess." He replied, hauling himself up and jogging to catch up with Cas. They walked most of the way in silence, Cas slipping his hand into Dean's and at first shocking the hell out of him. On the one hand, if any other dude had done that he'd be out of there, probably throwing out a few curse words and punches along the way. But Cas wasn't just a guy; Fuck, he'd only been human since this morning. So Dean let it slide. Besides, he couldn't help but feel something about their joined hands was comforting, although he'd die before admitting it to anyone.

* * *

><p><strong>NOTE<strong>

Okay, sorry for the huge delay, that's kinda of it for this _part_ of the story but i'll either add chapters here or whole new stories on this account! So yeah, expect more Dean and Castiel goodness as I continue my own little S7 verse. WHERE EVERYTHING IS PROFOUND BOND AND NOTHING HURTS.

Hope you liked anyway, Reviews make me happy as a clam, and if you have any ideas or thoughts about this that you love to see me write in. MESSAGE ME.

Also, If you have Tumblr come find me guys, I wanna get to know you awesome people! My URL is Bethahannyhoney!


End file.
